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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697886">Through It All</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aytherewegoagain/pseuds/aytherewegoagain'>aytherewegoagain</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TWICE (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Mental Health Issues, Smoking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:29:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aytherewegoagain/pseuds/aytherewegoagain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine a world where seeing a new place can be only a blink away, acquiring new skills didn't need practice, and dying isn't required to have another life. Now imagine people among us right now is experiencing that without you even knowing. Would you like to hear their stories?<br/> </p><p>TWICE x Sense8 fic</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chou Tzuyu/Minatozaki Sana, Hirai Momo/Kim Dahyun, Im Nayeon/Yoo Jeongyeon, Myoui Mina/Son Chaeyoung</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Letter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A TWICE Royal Ships x Sense8 fic because why not 😂. I love that show and i'm still bumbed it got canceled. T.T </p><p>people will be added, maybe. as well as other tags, soon enough</p><p>we'll see where this goes</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Our parents always told us to never talk to strangers, never take candy from a stranger, never go with a stranger; but isn’t it ironic how talking to strangers is basically how we make friends. families. Taking food from strangers who pose to be wanting to form a friendship fairly happens, and most people would greatly appreciate it as well. Going out, having fun, living life with a total stranger is simply called socializing. </p><p> </p><p>As humans, we are genetically inclined to be a sociable species. Right from the start socializing has been a key factor in our life. When our families would talk to us, teach us, play with us when we were nothing but babes, all of that is socialization. Having contact with other people is a vital aspect in the development and growth of person. Sociologist would greatly stand by the nurture, more so than the nature.</p><p> </p><p>Who we grew with, how we were brought up, and where, are all factors to what kind of person one would become? Though, in this day in age, where everything goes fast, life is rapid, nothing stays still; we, humans, are bound to run beside these advances. For years, we have adapted to all of the change that this world has brought to us; and somewhere along the way, something great happened.</p><p> </p><p>A different species of human, different from the Homo sapiens, these ones are called “Homo sensorium” or sensates. An advanced line of man where each is telepathically connected to a number of others. A group of this kind is called a ‘cluster’ and each cluster consists of eight sensates. They live off as normal humans until a ‘cluster parent’ (not part of the group) births them, awakening their connection to one another.</p><p> </p><p>You can say that this mental network takes socialization to a whole new level, and I need you to utilize your connection.</p><p> </p><p>I need your help. You are the only ones that can.</p><p> </p><p>Park Jihyo<br/>
Seoul, South Korea<br/>
<i>12/31/20</i></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Birth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>everything is happening at the same time just in different timezones</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <i>New York, USA – 8:00 a.m. 12/31/20</i>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Dahyun, for the love of God, the day has barely started. You’ve been crying since you woke up at the break of dawn. What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>Wendy turned the gas stove off to direct her attention to the very much disheveled girl sitting on one of the tables in their common room. Dahyun, the said teary-eyed girl, couldn’t even begin to speak as her lips trembled and her body shook. 

</p><p> </p><p>It was a rare sight to see the piano prodigy huddled up in her red checkered pants and oversized sweater bawling her eyes out and not astounding both the student and faculty body of Juilliard.</p><p> </p><p>The older girl, Wendy, sighed before plating their breakfast for today. “I’ve never seen you this upset, you got a B last semester and you didn’t even bat an eye. Now you’re giving the Niagara Falls a run for its money.”</p><p> </p><p>Still the pale skinned girl couldn’t formulate a word to come out of her mouth. Dahyun instead avoided Wendy’s stare by gazing out of the window to her left. What she saw alarmed and confused her. 

</p><p> </p><p>A woman stood on top of the building right across from them, right on the ledge. One wrong move, or the wind knocking too strong could send the person diving into her own demise.</p><p> </p><p>Dahyun hurriedly urged Wendy to look out the window as well, nearly toppling her bowl of porridge. “Hey what – “</p><p> </p><p>“Look!”</p><p> </p><p>Wendy peeled her eyes off of Dahyun and took a look at what the younger is pointing at. “What am I supposed to see?” </p><p> </p><p>Dahyun, more confused, blinked and rubbed at her eyes only to see that the woman no longer stood where she’s sure she saw her. “I swear there was someone there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Eat your muffin Dahyun, you have a performance to prepare for.”</p><p> </p><p>“but-”</p><p> </p><p>“Eat the goddamn muffin kid!”</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <i>Barcelona, Spain – 2:00 p.m. 12/31/20</i>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to Barcelona!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for flying Singapore Airlines!”</p><p> </p><p>“Have a nice stay!”</p><p> </p><p>The cabin crew greeted out the passengers as they got off the plane. Each steward wore their best and friendliest smiles as they stood near the exits. Tzuyu, the youngest member of the team, began to walk the expanse of the Airbus A350-900 that they used on this flight from Singapore.</p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu checked every row for any belongings left behind from the farthest seat in economy to the seats closer to the cockpit in business. Once she was sure that the cabin was clean, Tzuyu walked to the back of the plane again to where they kept their own things. 

</p><p> </p><p>Humming along to a random tune, the young flight attendant’s attention was caught by a woman crouched down between a middle row in economy.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me, Ma’am, did you leave anything?” Tzuyu slowly approached the woman who seemed to have ignored her presence. “Ma’am?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tzuyu!” The brunette quickly spun around from hearing her friend, Joy’s voice, echoing through the empty plane. “There’s a lady wanting to speak with you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hold on, there’s a passenger left he-,” Facing back to the woman in question, there was no one there. Tzuyu looked around to see whether she had walked away or the constant flying on long hauls for 6 days has got to her head. “I don’t see anyone, Tzuyu,”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, sorry, I’m probably just tired.”</p><p> </p><p>Joy took the young woman’s hand and led her back to the front of the plane where another woman dressed in a neatly pressed, navy blue pantsuit waited for her. </p><p> </p><p>“You must be Ms. Chou Tzuyu, glad to meet you. My name is Bae Joohyun.”</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <i>Clark Quay, Singapore – 8:00 p.m. 12/31/20</i>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Yoooooooooooooow! We are about to turn up! Last day of the year baby! I will make 2021 my bitch. No cap”</p><p> </p><p>Music boomed all around. The smell of food wafted through the air. People didn’t care who they bumped into. The energy is high and alcohol flows fast. Everyone is excited to welcome the new year and there’s no better way to do it than to get shitfaced at a countdown party with a bunch of strangers; and your friends of course.</p><p> </p><p>Chaeyoung should be out there, dancing with said strangers (and friends) and drowning herself in booze, but instead she’s sat at a table outside the bar they frequent in nursing her untouched, first glass of margarita. (<i>on a normal day, by this hour, it would’ve been her 4th already</i>)</p><p> </p><p>“Son! Come on, stop mopping! You’ll see it in the lost and found when we get back. Let loose honey!”</p><p> </p><p>Our little artist, Chaeyoung here, has been down in the dumps since she lost her painting project 3 days ago. She’s sure that it’s somewhere in campus, so at least there’s some form of reassurance there, but still, that thing costs more than a half of her grade this semester. 

</p><p> </p><p>Never getting it back would mean she’d either do the piece over again or repeat that particular subject altogether. Both equally doesn’t sound better than the other.</p><p> </p><p>Two of Chaeyoung’s closest friends dragged her out to the core of nightlife in Singapore against her protest (pleas) that she didn’t have the energy or the mood to step out of her apartment.  

</p><p> </p><p>They were persistent, and annoying, so the blonde Picasso-esque girl grumbled curse words under breath the whole time they travelled from her humble abode to the noisy riverside hot spot.</p><p> </p><p>Sighing, Chaeyoung downed her drink in one gulp, instantly feeling different once the alcohol hit her tongue. Nearly slamming the glass down on her table, Chaeyoung’s two friends cheered on as she finally decided to <i>fuck it</i>. Fuck what? Well there’s a lot around here.</p><p> </p><p>Chaeyoung’s eyes scanned the people walking by, a lady wearing a lab coat stood out from the half-naked people strutting the street like it’s a runway. A chill ran down Chaeyoung’s spine as she caught the eyes of the lady, she could feel it staring into her soul. A large group of people passed and the lady was lost in the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>“Could you grab me something harder than this”</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <i>Taguig, Philippines – 9:00 p.m. 12/31/20</i>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Im Nayeon is sociable, she makes herself stand out there, she’s supposed to be in the center of the room, all eyes on her. So why is she all alone in her apartment, dressed ready for bed, scrolling through Netflix while eating ice cream right out from the tub. </p><p> </p><p>She could faintly hear the music from the clubs and bars nearby hosting New Year’s Eve parties, and to be honest, she’d like nothing more than to get up, don her sexiest dress and walk in there like she owns the place. 

</p><p> </p><p>That’s not happening though, because no matter how much she wants to, she just can’t. Something in the back of her head tells her to stay put, eat her ice cream, and keep scrolling.</p><p> </p><p>Nayeon didn’t particularly have a movie in mind to watch, so she went through the catalog, hoping for a film to pique her interest; and one did. Not because it looked good though, but because of who’s in the poster.</p><p> </p><p>“Jihyo?”</p><p> </p><p>Nayeon placed the tub of ice cream on the coffee table in front of her as she went closer to the television. The nearer she got, Nayeon realized that it was actually a reflection. She turned her head so fast she might have gotten whiplash, but her old friend wasn’t there where her reflection in the television said she’d be. Nayeon is alone. </p><p> </p><p>She looked back at the tv and it looked like how it should be. Ellen Pompeo staring back at her wearing her blue scrubs and white long coat.</p><p> </p><p>One ring. Two rings. Three</p><p> </p><p>“<i>You have reached Park Jihyo’s voicemail, surprise surprise I can’t pick the phone. Leave a message and what not after the beep. Beep</i>”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, hi Jihyo, it’s Nayeon. I haven’t heard from you in a while, how are you? I miss you, maybe too much actually. I’m starting to see you but you’re not actually here. Call me, let’s catch up; and-uh-Happy New Year!”</p><p> </p><p><i>This ice cream could use a little liquor</i>.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <i>Tokyo, Japan – 10:00 p.m. 12/31/20</i>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Blinding strobe lights of bright neon purple beamed around the room. Booming base of the song the DJ played shook the dance floor, and the patrons along with it. In the very middle of all the mayhem, Hirai Momo. 

</p><p> </p><p>A dancer with a good amount of following from her YouTube dance videos and seldom personal vlogs, Momo is pretty well known in the country.</p><p> </p><p>A young promising talent who has already established her own studio, instantly caught the eyes of many. Aside from being able to bust an impressive move, or twenty, Momo has also been blessed, look wise. Easily turning heads where ever she goes, and the party right now isn’t an exception. </p><p> </p><p>Everyone left a considerable amount of distance from the dancing machine, not because of the two tall guys guarding her, but out of respect and admiration as well. One could pass off as a member of a gang (or a 90s band) and the other, his anime-girl bf. The latter tried his best to avoid the former’s advances while still enjoying himself. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll go get a drink you guys can stay here.”</p><p> </p><p>Momo left Yuta and Winwin, much to the younger’s dismay and upon reaching the bar, Momo ordered herself a nice glass of a Screwdriver. 

</p><p> </p><p>Not a moment later the bartender placed the glass right in front of her. Turning around her seat and sipping on her drink, Momo watched as the crowd began to thicken more than it already is. Cramping hot and sweaty bodies to each other.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Not going back there</i>
</p><p> </p><p>The Japanese’s eyes scanned the room getting a good look of everyone. At the corner of her line of sight, top left, just after the flight of stairs to the second floor stood a rather peculiar figure. Dressed in an all-white ensemble, her face hard to see through the incessant blinking of the lights, but Momo’s sure that the person is looking right at her.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <i>Jeju, South Korea – 10:00 p.m. 12/31/20</i>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Entrepreneur, from the French word entreprendre, means to initiate, begin, make. An entrepreneur initiates to deliver to the market what is lacking. They are the starters of a new market; they make their own market. 

</p><p> </p><p>Entrepreneurs are risk takers, treading the path of uncertainty striving to see that shinning light at the end of the dark, murky tunnel.</p><p> </p><p>That’s how Jeongyeon was taught, that’s what her professors in business school drilled into her head. To be fairly honest to whomever would want to go down this road in their life or if you’ve already had, you would greatly agree that it isn’t all cool breeze and fast cars. 

</p><p> </p><p>It’s more like constant anxiety and loans. Praying for your business to at least get 0.1% over breakeven night and day, and when you do get past that, finally achieving to make a profit, you celebrate. Drinking to your heart’s desire with your best bud.</p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon is drinking right now, more than a dozen beer bottles littered the floor of her proudly owned café – that is apparently on the brink of bankruptcy. Her best bud, Seulgi, showing little to no signs of life. She’s breathing for sure, but it’s been a couple minutes since her head hit the wooden table between them and it was pretty concerning how hard it had hit. 

</p><p> </p><p>(<i>Jeongyeon thought that the table would break, it was pretty pricey when she got it, it’d be a huge bummer it got damaged.</i>)</p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon nudged the other girl, but not even a groan was said made in response. Sighing she took a swig from her first bottle of the night, downing its contents.</p><p> </p><p>The familiar sound of the little bell above the door irritated and confused Jeongyeon, with a groan she stood up and walked towards the uninvited guest. “I’m sorry but the sign obviously says ‘closed’.” 

</p><p> </p><p>Voice thick and with a hint of annoyance, face scrunched up in scrawl, Jeongyeon greeted no one. She opened the door to peer outside only to see that the street is left barren. Every other establishment closed up for the new year.</p><p> </p><p>Saying that it’s chilly outside is one hell of an understatement, but nonetheless Jeongyeon stepped out only with her black jeans, plain white shirt, and leather jacket to keep the cold away from her bones. 

</p><p> </p><p>Walking the cobbled path, she caught sight of movement to her left. Turning in that direction, the hairs on her nape rose, the feeling of eyes on her ran down her spine causing chills.</p><p> </p><p>A lady in white, like what the elders speak of when trying to scare young children, stood about 7 feet away from Jeongyeon. Her hair unruly, if Jeongyeon squinted she would see parts of her clothes tattered and the ends of her long coat appeared to have been burned. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi there miss, do you need help?”</p><p> </p><p>The lady opened her mouth to answer but in a blink of an eye, she was gone.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <i>Osaka, Japan – 10:00 p.m. 12/31/20</i>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Minatozaki Sana believes that upon entering med school one should be handed a paper like the ones they ask you to fill out on those scary and very dangerous rides. Asking you if you’re ready to sell your soul and sleep for the name of science. It would surely let her think more before hastily continuing her grueling studies. </p><p> </p><p>It’s her dream though, to become a doctor, so there’s really no one to blame here but herself. Her parents didn’t force her into it nor did she blindly follow her friends, it was all Sana and everyone’s just there for both moral and gastric support. </p><p> </p><p>As a medical professional duty calls no matter the time of year so the Osaka native didn’t really mind spending her new years at the library studying, but the librarian seemed to have a different plan. 

</p><p> </p><p>Hastily grabbing her things to escape the nagging of the old lady, Sana ran out of the library with her things haphazardly thrown into her bag.</p><p> </p><p>The campus held an eerie feeling this late into the night, and this late into the year. It’d be a surprise to actually see another person walking the halls. Still, Sana basked in the grand silence, her footsteps and breathing the only thing that bounced off the clean white walls. It was a nice change from the noise that is her mind. </p><p> </p><p>Loud, angry voices rang inside Sana head making it difficult for her to focus on a single activity for more than a few minutes. It’s pretty ironic how a psych major in her last year of med school to have “voices” speaking to her. 

</p><p> </p><p>By now she should just look at her notes and numerous heavy, hardbound books to at least get a sense of what’s happening to her, but alas being aware doesn’t change the fact that she still doesn’t know how to deal with it.</p><p> </p><p>In layman’s term, Sana would say that she’s going crazy and a single elevator ride might just have proven that because as the doors began to close, the doctor to be stared not into her reflection, but of someone else’s. 

</p><p> </p><p>A woman she has never seen before but who seems to hold a sense of familiarity. Sana’s not easily spooked, she knows enough to not believe in ghost, rather to believe that she is, in fact, losing her mind.</p><p> </p><p>To further prove the point, Sana merely blinked and her reflection reverted back to that of herself. The elevator doors opened and Sana walked out as composed as she could be.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p>
  <b>
    <i>Melbourne, Australia – 12:00 MN 1/1/2021</i>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Three…”</p><p>“Two…”</p><p>“One!”</p><p>“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”</p><p> </p><p>Farewell 2020, hello 2021. New year, new start. Resolutions being listed down inside hazy, alcohol induced minds never to be fulfilled and done. Fireworks light up the sky adding pollution to the air. The party and loud music obviously far from stopping. </p><p> </p><p>Where better to celebrate the beginning of another 365 days in Melbourne than at the beach where one can see the expanse of the city skyline, uninterrupted. 

</p><p> </p><p>Myoui Mina is happily sitting on her surfboard, margarita in hand staring out at the bright moon playing as a spotlight behind the colourful lights of the fireworks.</p><p> </p><p>The tensions and knots on her body from dancing eased off replaced by the wonderous effects of alcohol, instantaneously relaxing her. Letting herself be washed to shore by the waves, Mina felt at peace, in pure bliss. It’s one of those ‘this is the life’ moments only ever felt after a few glasses or a few drags and puffs. </p><p> </p><p>Mina hopped off the board and let her feet sink into the fine white sand. The ridiculous mix of pop and EDM blasted through the speakers that lined the beachfront. 

</p><p> </p><p>Familiar faces greeted her, a few preppy girls running up and getting too close, guys letting their eyes linger far too long, and finally those that she’s <i>actually</i> familiar with.</p><p> </p><p>They gathered in a table outside one of the bars that over played WAP inside where people were for sure making up any and every variation to the questionable choreography. Mina found herself in a heated argument about Sigmund Freud when a flash of white appeared at the corner of her eye. She didn’t mind the figure choosing instead to rant about Freud’s basic principle of pain and pleasure.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Senses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>alright, i am done with school. i have time now. let's get this show on the road !!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>St. Kilda, Melbourne - <b> 2:34 A.M. 1/1/21</b></i> </p><p> </p><p>Smoke greeted Mina as she stepped into the packed and rowdy house. Sweaty bodies rubbing on each other, alcohol bottles haphazardly lying around posing to be a very dangerous threat, and cigarette butts and other rolled up paper littered on every surface. 

</p><p> </p><p>The Myoui Mina from two years ago would never be seen in a place like this, but the Myoui Mina now isn’t the same as before. She’s no longer uptight, well-mannered, and put together; well, not when she’s on stage that is.</p><p> </p><p>Once she puts on her pointes and laces them up, Mina becomes a different person. She’s no longer the girl who plays video games all night, or the girl who drowns her eggs in ketchup, or the girl who secretly smokes at her friend’s house. 

</p><p> </p><p>She becomes the deeply brokenhearted Giselle, Princess Odette who turns into a swan, or the brave young heroine Clara. Mina puts on a mask when she dances, a costume to act with, a persona to embody.</p><p> </p><p>Dance has always been an escape for Mina, she let’s herself be carried away by the music. Let her hips sway and her body roll against the person behind her. No harm there, she’s fairly certain it’s someone of the same sex. Their bodies moved in unison, both as fluid as the calmest river. 

</p><p> </p><p>The woman behind Mina did not hesitate to pull her closer, gripping on her hips while Mina reached behind her head to wrap her hands around the former’s neck. They swayed to the beat, matched the rhythm, drowned out the people around them.</p><p> </p><p>Mina wanted to take a peek behind her to see what her dance partner looked like. Would she have long or short hair, fair or tanned skin? What’s the colour of her eyes, the shade of her lips? Does she have freckles, piercings, or tattoos? 

</p><p> </p><p>As much as the curiosity gnawed at Mina’s throat, she had a rule. Never introduce, let alone know what the people you get too close to at parties look like. It makes one immune to the embarrassment if ever you encounter these people around the city. Mina would say, “<i><b>ignorance is bliss</b></i>”.</p><p> </p><p>So no, she didn’t turn back. Mina faced front and let herself be taken away by the music. One thing’s for certain though, whoever she is, she smells tropical.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p> <i>Carnegie Hall, New York - <b> 11:27 A.M. 12/31/20</b></i></p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Breathe in. Breathe out.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>All 268 seats of the Weill Recital Hall are occupied by students and teachers alike, each person in attendance is anticipating being able to hear Dahyun play who, behind the curtains, could be seen sat in a corner alone, with her head down low. 

</p><p> </p><p>The young prodigy has her noise cancelling headphones on to block out the chatter coming from the audience piling in, instead delicate but strong chords rang through her ears filling her mind with notes that danced around in her head.</p><p> </p><p>A tap to Dahyun’s shoulder jolted her away from the solitude of melodies she’s built. Her dear, angel of a friend, Wendy held out five fingers to her face and patted her head before walking back to her seat. Dahyun would forever be grateful to Wendy, the older girl looked out for her and took her care of her like an older sister would. 

</p><p> </p><p>She’d make breakfast for the two of them, haul the younger girl away from her keyboard and into her bed to get some sleep, or just to keep her company while Dahyun locks herself in their dorm room before finals. Needless to say, she wouldn’t have survived Juilliard without <i>the</i> Son Seungwan.</p><p> </p><p>Dahyun took a deep breath, counted backwards from ten, and took off her headphones. The busy noise that she expected that was typically heard backstage after 5 minutes has been called isn’t what she heard, surrounding her in its place is the booming base of electro pop mixes that you would hear in a very packed, very dirty club. 

</p><p> </p><p>Dahyun pulled her headphones back on and off again, on and off a few times just to make sure that she’s hearing right. No matter how many times she did it, Dahyun could still hear the loud party music without knowing the source of it.</p><p> </p><p>The taste of ground coffee filled her mouth, or whiskey. The now empty bottle of water doing nothing to relieve her of the feeling, instead it burned. Lining her throat with fire that cascaded down her throat, it left her parched. The heat spreading like wildfire across her chest. Fear bubbled inside her stomach, attempting to push its content up. </p><p> </p><p>Panic started to rouse inside of the pianist, her palms started to sweat and her legs began to bounce. Utter confusion filled the young woman, unable to make sense of what’s happening, and why it’s happening now. 

</p><p> </p><p>Dahyun was about to ask the person walking up to her but suddenly, the world turned silent when the familiar last-minute bell rang. The loud buzzing conversations from the audience and the shouting of commands around the backstage appeared to be just mere whispers compared to being engulfed by a Yummy remix played on repeat.</p><p> </p><p><i>Whoever thought that that song deserved an award nomination must have been tortured to listen to it and must have been forced to like it. </i>

</p><p> </p><p>Though no matter how perplexed she is, Dahyun couldn’t dwell on the fact that she probably needs to see a doctor. She needs to get through this performance first though, her last semester depends on it. </p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p> <i>Osaka, Japan - <b> 10:29 P.M. 12/31/20</b></i></p><p> </p><p>“-missing. Her office was left spotless, nothing out of order. It’s as if she just disappeared into thin air.”</p><p> </p><p>Sana’s eyes fluttered open, head pounding against the window of the bus. A clear and stern voice could be heard to her left. She could see the empty streets outside, establishments closed early for the night save for the nightclubs and bars. 

</p><p> </p><p>Sana’s eyes focused on the reflection of the bus from the window, her brows furrowed. She looked around to look for the source of the voices only to find every other seat except hers, empty.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Another line on the tally</i>
</p><p> </p><p>It has been an on-going thing for a few weeks now, Sana would hear voices, see flickers of what she could discern as people, it’s beginning to not faze her anymore. She’s come to accept that she may have lost her mind. 

</p><p> </p><p>A pretty ironic circumstance for someone studying to help people who feels like they’re losing their heads, but alas, it would be great to practice on one’s self before dealing with others.</p><p> </p><p>“Try.”</p><p> </p><p>There it is again, clear as day really. You can’t tell Sana that it could just be a person a few feet away or that she’s just imagining things. No, not when the voices sound like they’re actually in front, speaking to her. </p><p> </p><p>Sana sat back on her seat, listening on to the conversation. Though it’s strange that she can’t seem to hear any responses this time around. Just the silvery voice of a woman who, according to Sana’s imagination anyway, is dressed in a navy-blue pantsuit with long luscious hair and the fairest skin ever, ever. Very specific yes, but that’s what Sana sees as she closes her eyes, the image as vivid as the voice.</p><p> </p><p>The bus stopping abruptly caused Sana to open her eyes once again. With a quick peek outside she realized that she’s at her stop. Quickly leaving her seat, Sana sheepishly thanked and apologized to the driver before walking down the chilly streets of Osaka; quiet, barren, and devoid of people giving it an almost eerie atmosphere. </p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me”</p><p> </p><p>Sana’s heart began to race, her palms began to sweat. She continued to walk without minding the creep that could possibly be following. Her hands reached into her pocket where a pepper spray bottle sat amidst her other necessities. “Excuse me, miss.” A touch, Sana felt a tight grip on her shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit”</p><p> </p><p>Fists up to her face, fighting stance ready, immediately attacking the person with a blast from the spray, Sana quickly spun around only to see nothing. No one stood behind her, or any direction around her for that matter as she spun a full 360, nobody’s hand is touching her shoulder yet she could feel the weight, the warmth of flesh, it still lingered. Sana began to walk again, picking up her pace as the cold winter night breeze seeped into her bones.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not working, she can’t see me.”</p><p> </p><p>Sana sucked in a breath as she stopped in the middle of the road once again. The young woman must really be losing her mind. Not only is she hearing things, she’s feeling things now. I mean, it could also be a ghost, but who would want to contact her?</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Grandma, if that’s you, please tell me so that I wouldn’t be spooked all the time. Tnx.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Nothing else happened until she reached home. A small one-bedroom apartment to her right, kitchen right across the main door, and small welcoming area between it. Sana placed her shoes on the rack by the door before changing into her Gudetama slippers. 

</p><p> </p><p>Her fat 6-year-old orange tabby, Tiger was nowhere to be seen. Though it’s nothing to worry about as Sana briskly went to open her closet and there he was, behind all the long-sleeves and sitting on top of her neatly folded underwear.</p><p> </p><p>Sana scooped the feline into her arms, “Hi there, baby. Missed me?” and as she sat down on her bed, he jumped away from her hold and sauntered into the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>“I missed you too”</p><p> </p><p> “Cute cat” A deep purple figure was the last thing Sana saw before her world turned pitch black.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p> <i>Grand Central Park, Taguig - <b> 2:59 A.M. 1/1/21</b></i></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>“<i>Should auld acquaintance be forgot</i><br/>
<i>And never brought to mind?</i><br/>
<i>Should auld acquaintance be forgot</i><br/>
<i>And days of auld lang syne?</i>”</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Nayeon emptied her 2nd pint of ice cream for the night accompanied by a fairly good bottle of bourbon that she managed to snag from the company Christmas party. Just the thought of getting up from the couch caused a headache to form and an exasperated groan to surface. 

</p><p> </p><p>She might as well stay there and try to sleep for the remaining hours before the sun rises, it wouldn’t be that long of a wait anyway. As Nayeon’s eyes began to droop someone decided to pound down on her door. Loud banging that could quite literally tear her door down.</p><p> </p><p>“Who the fu- "</p><p> </p><p>The person knocking didn’t seem to get tired, only going harder and harder. Nayeon didn’t have any other choice but to haul her ass off of the couch and confront her insane visitor who’s not even shy to wake the neighbours up. </p><p> </p><p>“I swear to all things evil, Doyoung if that’s you you’re dead to me!” Nayeon shouted as she made herself decently presentable, dragging her feet all the way to the door. “Dead to me, you hear, DEAD!”</p><p> </p><p>Nayeon prepared to tackle whoever’s behind that door, sumo style, with a quick count down from three she ripped open her door ready to knock down – </p><p> </p><p>“What the fuck”</p><p> </p><p>-no one. The knocking ceased, there’s nobody in the hallway, it’s peaceful, quiet, and most definitely empty. </p><p> </p><p><i>Maybe I drank too much.</i> </p><p> </p><p>Utterly bewildered, Nayeon closed the door behind her before making her way to the kitchen. A nice glass of water would surely help clear her head, and sleep. Nayeon has to sleep. 

</p><p> </p><p>Upon reaching the fridge, she filled her glass cup to the brim, bringing it up to her lips Nayeon slowly gulped down the cool liquid. Thinking of nothing but how it flowed down her throat.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Yah, I needed this</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Halfway through finishing the water, Nayeon felt warmth spread around her midsection. She stopped, the feeling began to spread across her whole backside, from her heel up to her head. The heat felt tighter, like a hug from behind, the heat began to feel like flesh. Cautiously, Nayeon lowered the glass from her lips as well as her eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Shit”</p><p> </p><p>Nayeon jumped causing for her to accidentally let go of what she was holding. I mean who wouldn’t when you find arms wrapped around your waist when you’re fairly certain that you are alone. Yeah, you get the point. Nayeon clutched her rapidly beating heart while staring at the pointy shards on the floor.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>There goes another glass</i>
</p><p> </p><p>“Nayeon?”</p><p> </p><p>That voice, Nayeon isn’t expecting to hear that voice. With the few energy left in her body and against the drilling inside her head, Nayeon lifted her gaze only to be met by the last person she wanted to see. (<i>Okay, false, but let her have it</i>) </p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing here?”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean? I’m in my – “ The woman in front of her paused, she looked around as confused as Nayeon has been for a few hours now. She turned around, rubbed her eyes, and even slapped her own face.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you done?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman looked at Nayeon, her face showed confusion but her eyes conveyed many, amazement, longing, misery, joy. “Nayeon” She said, her voice as soft as cotton, a quiet whisper, a silent message that held so much more.</p><p> </p><p>“How did you get in here, and why are you here?”</p><p> </p><p>One step forward. Two steps back. The crunch of the glass shards beneath her heavy boots made Nayeon cringe. The woman walked closer to her, but she matched the steps, creating distance. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not here Nayeon, I’m not. A few seconds ago, I was just in - now I’m in – wait, where are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Nayeon hesitated, she ran, she left and didn’t tell them where she’d go, didn’t tell her. The brunette contemplated whether or not she should tell this hallucination of the person she oh-so misses where she is; but hold on a second, that’s right, this isn’t real. Nayeon must be dreaming, she <i>did</i> fall asleep on the couch. So, she decided, she made a choice because that’s what she does.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m in the Philippines” <i>step forward</i> “Right at the heart of everything” <i>another</i> “You’d hate it here. All tall buildings and busy people.” <i>and the last</i> “I wouldn’t anything else but to have you here though”</p><p> </p><p>Nayeon went in for the tight embrace she’s been dreaming of for a while, ever since she left. Taken aback, the woman failed to respond, but when those arms enclosed Nayeon in, it felt like coming home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Introductions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Jurong West, Singapore – <b>2:15 A.M. 1/1/21</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>Clair de Lune, it means moonlight in French. Composed by the likewise French Impressionist composer Achille Claude Debussy somewhere around the 1890s but only got published 15 years later in 1905. It was originally called “<i>Promenade Sentimentale</i>” or sentimental walk. Whether you know what it’s called or not, you sure would recognize the piece when you hear it. 

</p><p> </p><p>A tune that’s been used in countless movies, tv shows, and advertisements; from James Dean to Danny Ocean, and even Bella Swan. The familiar gentle melody played on a grand piano emits this feeling of a silent street, nobody else but yourself with the moon casting down your very own natural spotlight.</p><p> </p><p>It sounds safe, calming, not at all how you’d feel when walking alone at night, drunk. Now, Chaeyoung could’ve crashed at her friend Yeri’s dorm room, it’s nearer than her apartment at the other side of the country, or she could’ve gone with Minghao who also lived nearby and who even owns a car, but no. Chaeyoung insisted that she could get herself home, she’s done it before. 

</p><p> </p><p>The young artists didn’t want to cram herself in the college dorms nor did she want to go to Minghao’s apartment that he shares with their seven other friends. It’s new years and the place would definitely look like a dumpsite. So, they let her go, Yeri made sure that she gets on the right train before riding her own.</p><p> </p><p>Believe it or not, Chaeyoung has high tolerance for alcohol, she’d drink whatever is given to her which is very dangerous come to think of it. Even with her small stature, she could probably outdrink a Russian if she’s in the mood and tonight she probably did set a record for the most alcohol consumption in one sitting. (given that you count the alcohol percentage, not how many bottles she’s finished) 

</p><p> </p><p>Sure, Chaeyoung drinks, she’s the kind that you’d see at almost every party but she’s never drank this much. Not to the point that she starts having deliriums, her vision, the image in front of her distorting. One minute she’s staring at Yeri talking about her dick of a professor then suddenly it changes to a set of black and white piano keys in the next. It didn`t only happen once, oh no no, it happened a bunch of times through the course of the night.</p><p> </p><p>The crowd of grinding and humping bodies turned into an auditorium filled with neatly dressed, well-behaved audience. The DJ became a conductor frantically waving his arms in front of the stage. The neon strobe lights turned into blinding spotlights shining right at Chaeyoung’s face. The shouts turned into claps, club music to classical, sweat to wood. It would happen and stop as quickly as it began. </p><p> </p><p>Chaeyoung didn’t miss her stop, thank heavens, she managed to drag herself out of the train, down from the platform, and out of the station. Her apartment isn’t far, just a few buildings away, and she lived in a pretty quiet neighborhood. Couples with kids lived here, aunties and uncles who no longer had their children with them reside in the units surrounding hers, and those families with three generations living under one roof. It’s totally safe, nothing too crazy occurs, just the seldom naked foreigner that somehow made their way into the station. </p><p> </p><p>Bad things or accidents won’t actually happen during Chaeyoung’s short walk, even though she may be stumbling a bit. The faint sound of Debussy helped make the journey more pleasant. Slowly, as if she’s climbing up a mountain, the sound grew louder. More prominent, more evident with each step. The artist followed the sound, she let her feet take her where the music led to. It’s beautiful, it really is. When the tempo started to pick up, the notes started to fly, you could just imagine the pianist’s fingers dancing on top of the keys. In a way, it sounded euphoric. 

</p><p> </p><p>Chaeyoung’s fingers moved on their own, mimicking that of the person playing. She looks up at the sky before heading inside her building and there it is, the moon. Sitting high and shinning bright. She looked bigger than usual, more obvious like she <i>wants</i> you to notice her, stare and witness her beauty, her mystery.</p><p> </p><p>Below the light stood a girl shining as bright as the moon herself. She glimmered in the darkness of the night, her skin as pristine and radiant as porcelain. Chaeyoung couldn’t help but stare, enthralled by this personification of the sun. The scene presented itself as a perfect still to translate into canvas with great delineation. An ominous yet innocent photograph that could mean many things for many people. The raw emotion emitting from it could move even the coldest heart. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe it’s the alcohol talking or Chaeyoung’s just in one of her <i>aha!</i> moments but either way, the artist knew she had to capture this and frame it. If only her hands could stop shaking or if her vision would stop moving, then she’d be able to do the job. Just one good – </p><p> </p><p>
  <i>CLICK</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Clearly, Chaeyoung should have went with a less alarming and more subtle greeting rather than announcing her presence just like that, but keep in mind that her brain’s a bit hazy from all that toxins she’s consumed; sue her. The girl turned to face Chaeyoung with a shrill, clutching her chest for dear life.</p><p> </p><p><i>Nice job almost giving her a heart attack</i>.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you – I’m not like a creep or anything, really.” Chaeyoung ran her hand around her throat, it felt dry and tight. “You just looked pretty there and I thought it’d be nice to – uhm – paint.”</p><p> </p><p>The girl looked at Chaeyoung curiously with furrowed eyes and pursed lips. “What’s your name?”</p><p> </p><p>The latter turned bug-eyed, relieved but nonetheless surprised that the girl didn’t get mad or told her off. Goodness knows how much she’s been told off before. “Chaeyoung, Son Chaeyoung. I’m an art student that’s why… uhm” she gestured to her phone on the floor that seemingly jumped from her grasp “yours?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kim Dahyun” The girl held out her hand which Chaeyoung gladly took, it’s always nice to make new friends, sober or not. “You might want to get that.” Dahyun pointed to the phone still on the dirty sidewalk. Well at least as dirty as streets can be in Singapore.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh right. Thank you.” Chaeyoung let go of Dahyun’s hand to bend down and pocket her device. “So, in which unit do you live in?” </p><p> </p><p>“K15”</p><p> </p><p>Chaeyoung chuckled, “I’m sorry, there might be some kind of mix up cause that’s where I live” eyeing the girl, Dahyun “and I’m quite certain that I don’t have a roommate.”</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Ajiharacho, Osaka, Japan – <b>2:38 A.M. 1/1/21</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>“You’re adorable aren’t you…”</p><p> </p><p>Sana began to stir; she felt soft fabric beneath her body and smelled the floral scent of the lavender detergent that she uses. </p><p> </p><p>“Pretty little kitty…”</p><p> </p><p>That voice again, it’s been bugging her the whole night but instead of distress and urgency, amusement laced the tone. That voice people use when talking to babies or pets. It’s oddly attractive, Sana wouldn’t be opposed to listening to it all day. </p><p> </p><p>“All round and chubby, your owner treats you well.”</p><p> </p><p>Sana scoffed earning the attention of the voice. “Oh, good you’re finally awake.” The memory of what happened before she passed out flooded Sana’s mind. The figure was no longer just a big blob of purple, it’s a person now. A very tall, very beautiful person, model material. She loomed over Sana’s body laying down on the bed. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re a doctor, if I’m not mistaken.” </p><p> </p><p>Butterflies. Butterflies swarmed Sana’s stomach full. Seeing a pretty girl’s one thing, but for said pretty girl to call you what you’re working your ass off for, <i>transcendence</i>. Better than any flattery compliment about looks or talent. Hearing the title and knowing that she’s the one being addressed surged fireworks into Sana’s heart. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m not – I mean – well, not yet anyway” </p><p> </p><p>It should feel weird, having a conversation with a hallucination, but for Sana it isn’t the case at all. The girl standing in front of her looks too perfect for something that’s merely a figment of her imagination but at the same time, she looks too good to be true. As cheesy as it might sound, the girl is what angels wish they would look like. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, I see. Well allow me to introduce myself first, my name is Tzuyu, Chou.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>She even has a name, how fun</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Sana playfully held out her hand, mocking herself. “Minatozaki Sana, a pleasure to meet you.” What she didn’t expect is to feel actual flesh and heat when their hands met. The Japanese jumped back taking her hand away from the stranger. </p><p> </p><p>
  <i>That’s three out of the five types of hallucinations. Auditory, visual, and now tactile!</i>
</p><p> </p><p>“The situation is quite difficult to explain especially to someone in your chosen profession, but please believe me when I tell you that you’re not imagining or just things. I <i>am</i> here.”</p><p> </p><p><i>Huh</i> </p><p> </p><p>Sana patted the space beside her on the bed to which the stranger, Tzuyu, reluctantly took. “Do indulge me. Convince me that I am not clinically insane.” </p><p> </p><p>Sighing, “Well for one, you can look me up and see that I am a real person whom you’ve never met; and second…” Tzuyu stood up pulling Sana along with her. The setting changed right before the intern’s eyes from her shabby little apartment unit to a neat and well-kept hotel room. 

</p><p> </p><p>Directly across the queen-seized bed situated are the sinks, no wall separates the lavatory from the bedroom aside from a tinted glass covering the showers. Out the window, a lush garden of green and pass that the city skyline with it even just a spec in the picture, unmistakably is the <i>Basilica de la Sagrada Familia</i> standing tall and proud in the middle of it all.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think hallucinations can take you to a place you’ve never been or seen before.”</p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu let the girl, Sana, wander around the room letting the woman calm herself enough to make sensible conversation. “Would you like some tea? Or coffee maybe?”</p><p> </p><p>“I would rather you explain to me how I travelled thousands of kilometers in the blink of an eye.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well to start off, the first thing to know is that you’re a <i><b>sensate</b></i>, so am I and apparently many other people around the world.” Tzuyu paused to watch Sana’s reaction. The Japanese’s face remained expressionless, almost as if uninterested, but the steward continued on. “Sensates are a different type of Homosapien. Scientifically called Homo Sensorium because of their – <i>our</i> unique “ability,” so to speak, of making use of the senses. It’s more heightened than those of the Sapiens but not in the way that dogs hear higher decibels or that bluebottle butterflies see more colors. No, it’s in a way that sensates who are in the same cluster can literally see, hear, smell, taste, and feel what the other members’ senses perceive.”</p><p> </p><p>Sana still stood by the foot of the bed expression unreadable, “Yah, no you’re right, it is hard to convince someone like me because I know for a fact that that defies everything written in every psychological, anthropological, and sociological books.” but soon finally sat down, far too close than how Tzuyu would allow other people to, arms and legs crossed and staring the younger dead in the eye. “So, I apologize that I need more convincing than hearing made up scientific names of another type of humans.”</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Donam-dong, Jeju-do, South Korea – <b>4:29 A.M. 1/1/21</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>“Shit” </p><p> </p><p>Seulgi, Jeongyeon’s best friend and business partner, lay motionless on the floor of their failing café. The latter may or may not have let go of the poor woman while trying to haul her off of the stool and hopefully be taken home safely; but in Jeong’s defense, she was magically transported to the humble apartment of her long-time crush/love of her life/ best friend who she hasn’t seen in 3 years. 

</p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon’s sure it was Seulgi in her arms, but when said body jumped away from her and the sound of glass shattering reached her ears, she knew that something was definitely not right.</p><p> </p><p>Im Nayeon hasn`t changed much except for the fact that she cut her hair, it now only reached her shoulders. Her eyes still held that mischievous glint, always seemingly devising an evil plot. Her voice still annoying as ever, loud and abrasive. Her hands still as heavy when she hits turning your shoulders into volleyballs. Really, not much has changed, she’s still the girl Jeongyeon grew up with, just with more bags and reservation. The first girl that made Jeongyeon’s heart flutter, just with tired eyes and sad laughter. The girl that Jeongyeon loved and still does, just more distant and foreign, a stranger. </p><p> </p><p>Having Nayeon in her arms sparked joy inside of Jeongyeon that Marie Kondo would even urge for them to be kept close. Their bodies pressed against each other, fitting into every sinew of a well-made mold, like the last two pieces of a puzzle. It just felt so right, so perfect. 

</p><p> </p><p>No matter how Jeongyeon got there or if it’s even real, they would both take it. Let their hearts feel just for a few minutes, let it beat again, let it sing of glee and exultation; and a few minutes it was. Jeongyeon simply closed her eyes to bask in the familiar feeling of her best friend only to see the barren shop when she opened them.</p><p> </p><p>The fantasy ended and now Jeongyeon’s faced with the reality that any day she could lose her pride and joy. The fruits of her hard labor and perseverance, her baby. She could always ask for help from her parents, but that’s not Jeongyeon. She’s stubborn and would rather go through hell before reaching out to someone, but this place isn’t just hers. Jeongyeon has Seulgi, and Seulgi has her rich girlfriend that hops on a plane every other day.</p><p> </p><p>There’s really no use just standing around now, she has to take her best friend home or else a certain five foot two totally scary lady would come and whoop her ass for letting Seulgi drink as much as she did tonight. There goes Jeongyeon’s chance of salvaging the café if ever that happens. So, let’s not make that <i>if</i> into a <i>when</i>; time to take the bear back to her cave and let her hibernate.</p><p> </p><p>------ </p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Roppongi, Tokyo, Japan – <b>2:47 P.M. 1/1/21</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s the first morning of the new year and Momo missed it by waking up much later than she would have normally liked. The night before was a wild one for the dancer, everybody’s really happy to get over the hell of a year that is 2020. 

</p><p> </p><p>Party after party, they hopped from one club to another establishing their presence and dominance on the dance floor. Not a hard feat to achieve when you’re already known around town, but it did take a toll on the Japanese woman who immediately crashed when her body hit the sofa, not even being able to make it to her bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>Alas, the day breaks and the fun stops. Life goes back to its normalcy after all the holiday and year end festivities, adults go to work, kids go to school. As for Momo, she’s running late; late for an appointment with a client that’s paying her to make a choreography for a new girl group that’s about to debut. </p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Shit</i>
</p><p> </p><p>How lucky is she that the day Momo sets up an alarm, she totally misses it by a long shot? Frantically showering and picking up the first articles of clothing in her dresser, Momo rushes out the door nearly forgetting her keys and train cards. She can’t really blame Yuta for not calling to wake her up, it’s not really required of him but if he loves her as well as his job, he certainly should have. This meeting is important and not one to mess up. </p><p> </p><p>Momo reached her studio/office much faster than it usually takes, either because she ran between train rides or that the trains were much more efficient today. Either way, the dancer got there in time with a few minutes to spare - </p><p> </p><p>“Oh hello! I’m sorry for being late. How long have you been here?”</p><p> </p><p>- or not. Leotard, tights, and pointe shoes on lissome body stretched out on the bar greeted Momo as she entered. Perfect bun atop caked up face surrounding smoky eyes that stared at her through the floor-to-ceiling mirror sent chills down her spine. This woman is the type you wouldn’t want to mess with, even yet encounter. </p><p> </p><p><i>I pray to any being listening to help me get out alive</i>. </p><p> </p><p>“You’re not supposed to be here.”</p><p> </p><p>Momo placed her bag down, “I’m pretty sure I am, considering that I own this place.” tentatively approaching the stranger that may or may not be trespassing into her studio. “Are you the client or do I have to call security?” To make it look more of a threat, Momo held out her phone up to the woman’s face. Which the latter took offense in, smacking the device away making it fly across the room. </p><p> </p><p>“What the hell! Who do you think you are?”</p><p> </p><p>The woman poked her cheeks with her tongue, placing her hands on her waist making confident, calculated steps into Momo’s proximity until one wrong move would send their lips crashing down against each other. “Mina Sharon Myoui” Jabbing at older dancer’s chest with each utterance of her name. “and you?”</p><p> </p><p>Not one to back down, Momo took a step closer, their foreheads now touching (with Momo’s bangs in between of course). She stared into this Sharon character’s cold, icy orbs with her own red fiery ones gripping the latter’s jaw with both hands, tight and form.</p><p> </p><p>“Hirai – <i>fucking</i> – Momo”<br/>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this took longer than expected 😅 sorry about that </p><p>Happy New Year! even though it's eleven days late. We`re still in January so I guess it's fine 😂</p><p>as always stay safe, wash your hands, and enjoy the chapter !!</p><p> </p><p>P.S. tw on Dahyun's part, it's not really obvious and very small but there's an implied suicide attempt</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <i>Osaka, Japan – <b>7:00 A.M. 1/1/21</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>They’re back at Sana’s apartment, the sun’s peeking from below casting an orange gradient hue on the horizon. Her brain is in shambles, tiny Sana’s running around throwing paper and burning cabinets. Inside it’s complete and utter turmoil, but outside it’s perfect calm and rest. </p><p> </p><p>Well for Sana it is to her benefit, Tzuyu on the other hand reluctantly hugged the former while they sat on her bed. The younger figured that it’s the least she could do after thoroughly destroying everything the Psych major was told and taught. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m telepathically connected to you,”</p><p>“More than that, but yes.”</p><p> </p><p>First words spoken between the two for the last thirty minutes or so and still the same question Sana’s asked nearly a hundred times now. It’s just a difficult thought to wrap your head around, to be able to connect with a person on a whole other level, but it does make a lot of unanswered things clear. Things that scientists and doctors are still biting each other’s heads off for. </p><p> </p><p>“and to six other people”</p><p>“Yes”</p><p> </p><p>Sana hummed scooting closer to Tzuyu, wrapping her own arms around the younger woman, slotting her head at the juncture between Tzuyu’s neck and shoulders. Tzuyu lets her, it’s been a while since someone was this close to her, it made her heart swell with pride. This older, probably smarter considering she’s in med school, and more mature human is seeking solace in her, protection in her embrace. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you know who they are?”</p><p>“Nope, just you.”</p><p>“Why me?”</p><p> </p><p>The chance of meeting Sana is one is to six and yet she’s where the universe led Tzuyu to, spending her layover physically in Spain but mentally in Japan. The lady that talked to the attendant gave her a run through of what it meant to be a sensate, hence she was able to explain it to Sana, as best as she could anyway. </p><p> </p><p>Joohyun Bae said that there are instances when sensates subconsciously visit a cluster mate, usually when troubling thoughts plague their mind, when in distress. Sudden news of her biological difference didn’t bother Tzuyu, confused at the least, skeptical at first, but not enough to cause an existential crisis.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure. When Ms. Bae told me to reach out, you were who I connected to.”</p><p>“Who’s Ms. Bae?”</p><p> </p><p>Who <i>is</i> Joohyun Bae? Tzuyu didn’t really ponder on the fact that a woman she doesn’t know but apparently knows her would reveal something as unbelievably baffling as <i>that</i>. How even her own parents wouldn’t be able to know about it unless they were of the same is a thing Tzuyu finds kind of unsettling, but nevertheless she accepted it. More so now that she’s experienced what being a sensate meant. </p><p> </p><p>“She’s the one that explained all of it to me”</p><p>“She’s like us?”</p><p>“Yup”</p><p> </p><p>The silence enveloped them once again, they watched Tiger play with his yarn ball on top of Sana’s medical books. Both basked in the quiet and in each other’s embrace. In a way, they’ve both been feeling lonely the past year. Sana with shutting everything out to focus on her final year of med school and Tzuyu fresh out of college to being in the air most of the time seldomly sees her family. </p><p> </p><p>Sana is the type of person to be very physical, always clinging on to someone whenever she can. It’s the fact that she’s an only child that made her yearn for constant affection and companionship, someone of her age to talk to, share her worries and new discoveries. </p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu on the other hand is the opposite. She’s shy, not one to express herself well. So, it’s uncommon for her to let just anyone get close, let alone hug someone she barely knew this long, but it`s probably the fact that they’re one in the same. Their bond genetically and quite literally stronger.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s one thing I forgot to mention,” Tzuyu leaned down to check whether or not Sana fell asleep, but two soft honey orbs stared back willing her to continue. “we need to find a person. Park Jihyo, her name was, I think.” </p><p> </p><p>The elder’s ears perked up; she didn’t expect that becoming a detective came with the mutation. “Why us?” A doctor and a flight attendant aren’t really the first people you’d go to when looking for a missing person.</p><p> </p><p>“Remember I told you that each cluster has a ‘mother’ that births them. Apparently, she’s <i>our</i> mom.”</p><p> </p><p>It still doesn’t explain the question why it has to be them though. “Did that Joohyun tell you about this as well?” Tzuyu gave a curt ‘yup’ in response before the conversation died down. </p><p> </p><p>Sana felt the younger shift, pushing her to sit upright and away from her body, much to the former’s dismay. Tzuyu held her at arms-length, “How about this, after my flight back to Singapore tomorrow I have about more than a two-week off. I can fly to you here and we can work on trying to get in touch with the others.” </p><p> </p><p>Excited would be an understatement, Sana is thrilled, elevated, exuberant, and every adjective synonymous. She studied Tzuyu’s face, eyes reading whether the girl is being serious. “You’d spend more of your time off with me?” Her tone now different from the one Tzuyu’s used to, ever since they started talking Sana spoke nothing but sternly, now obvious teasing coloured her words. </p><p> </p><p>The attendant’s taken aback by the sudden change, even the intern’s face could be unrecognizable with how different it looked. Her previous knitted brows now hung low; tantalizing heavy-lidded eyes that used to hold such distress gazed back; the ghost of a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, I mean – uhm – to let you know as well that I – uhm – I’m actually real.”</p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu’s heart raced inside her ribcage, pushing hard to be freed. Her hands still on Sana’s shoulders shook, sweat beginning to seep out. The young woman isn’t sure why she’s suddenly feeling this way. She was the one supposed to be acting all tough, the one who knew more, be the one who’s confident. She’s not supposed to act like a crush-stricken school girl seeing her Language teacher for the first time. </p><p> </p><p>“Honey, I think your rapidly beating heart alone is enough to persuade me.”</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Orchard Central, Singapore – <b>4:39 P.M. 1/2/2</b>1</i>
</p><p> </p><p>“Your apartment’s haunted?”</p><p> </p><p>White and glass surrounded Chaeyoung and Yeri, the smell of fresh pastries and cakes wafted, filling the room with divine scents. The high ceiling and open space enchanted the young artist, it remined her of those House of Mirrors in fairs or theme parks. Not to mention they sell amazing crepe cakes, which assures to have Chaeyoung as a frequent costumer here, especially when she’s stressed. </p><p> </p><p>“How else can you explain a pale girl suddenly disappearing after I blink. <i>Blink</i>, Yeri! I close my eyes for less than a second and she’s gone.”</p><p> </p><p>Chaeyoung had a hard time getting the much-needed shut eye when she got to her unit, which isn’t exactly uncommon. The girl’s sadly been plagued by insomnia ever since she started college, but she did get a handful of inspirations from the lack of sleep so at least there’s something good from it. She spent the first day of the year sleeping away her massive hangover then.</p><p> </p><p>“A lot of old people do live there, maybe they attract spirits waiting to come get them.”</p><p> </p><p>Kim Yerim is Chaeyoung’s best friend, the little troublemaker did not hesitate one bit when the younger asked if she’d go to another country with her. Though it took a lot of convincing from her parents, they were worried that one day they would get a call from the embassy saying that their daughter’s been detained, but it’s been four years since they reluctantly let her go and thank every deity that no dreaded call has reached them… yet. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s just so weird, she looked so real, and I even talked to her! Kim Dahyun. How would a Korean ghost be lingering around here?”</p><p> </p><p>Yeri forked a big piece off of her cake, chewing it as slow as she could while staring into the distance before answering. “I don’t know. Immigration?” Chaeyoung snorted, smacking the other girl in the head.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry up, the boys said to meet them at Sentosa.”</p><p> </p><p>The mention of the island struck a bell inside Yeri’s head pushing her buttons to move at a speed that it’s surprising she didn’t choke from shoving a mouthful of gâteau nuage down her throat. Not a minute to waste, the two are already heading out the boutique to start their ten-minute walk to the station. </p><p> </p><p>“We’re going to the beach, right?” Yeri couldn’t hide her excitement, adding a bounce to her step as they walked through Orchard road. </p><p> </p><p>Towering buildings alongside odd shaped ones lined the street, high end brands shinning with their gold walls and fluorescent lights. Chaeyoung simply nodded at her friend, unable to match her enthusiasm.</p><p> </p><p>“We should get a change of clothes then” </p><p>“They already brought the ones we have at their apartment.”</p><p> </p><p>So, off they went, riding the purple line to the harbour, going up the mall and on another train, that’ll take them from the mainland to the tiny offshore island. Hopping off at the last station and finally on the beach tram. </p><p> </p><p>A good number of people occupied the white sands enjoying the cool afternoon breeze, families spending the last days to bond before work and school resume, groups of friends just lounging, some running around, most playing beach volleyball. </p><p> </p><p>It was easy to spot their own band, eight tall unruly boys are a pretty hard thing to miss. Yugyeom lifting Bambam above his head and throwing him down, Mingyu shouting orders at the latter, Jungkook patting the former in the shoulder, Eunwoo acting as the referee and the remaining three laughing their asses off at the quality entertainment displayed for them sticks out like a sore thumb from the peace and order around them. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m surprised no one’s broken a bone yet.”</p><p> </p><p>They all simultaneously paused, whipping their heads to see Chaeyoung and Yeri holding in their own laughter at the ridiculousness before them. </p><p> </p><p>It’s like having eight five-year olds who just newly discovered that there are other five-year olds. Seokmin’s the first to greet the two girls followed by Jaehyun who swerved directly to the older girl. The others crowded them as they sat down on the makeshift blankets made of plaid shirts and hoodies</p><p> </p><p>The sun sat low on the horizon painting the sky with soft pink, orange, and blue. Plush clouds passing through adding texture and dimension. Chaeyoung sat back with her sketchbook switching between letting her hand work on the paper and watching her friends drown each other in the water. </p><p> </p><p>Dust from the sand kicked by the running teens filled her vision, as the group passed a lone girl is left standing right in front of her. The stream of sunlight mixed with the dissipating smoke shrouded her silhouette creating the most quintessential subject for an expressionist painting. </p><p> </p><p>Imagine ‘<i>The Scream</i>,’ but less of the iconic figure and more of a misty, foggy image of a modern day princess. Chaeyoung didn’t need any device to capture the view, her own two eyes are enough, the beauty of it permanently etched into her brain. </p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p><i>Dark and quiet. Shredded papers littering the floor. Books thrown from the shelves. Drawers of cabinets yanked off from their hinges. A petite woman stood in the middle of it all, dressed in white robes and a white dress. The city outside of her vast glass window cheered loud for the coming year, far and unknowing of the woman’s impending doom</i>.</p><p> </p><p><i>She spun in her place, uncertain where to start first. Blazing orange by the corner of the room hissed at her. She burned much of her dissertations and ripped her papers in haste after getting that god awful faxed picture. Someone’s out to get her and they know exactly where she is</i>. </p><p> </p><p><i>Heavy boots marching down the hallway pulled the woman from her trance. Keys jingling, rattling in the slot deafened her. One of the heavy steel cabinets kept the door shut, but she knew they could get in even then. The only light in the room came from the fire and her computer</i>. </p><p> </p><p><i>A drafted email waiting to be sent to eight people, among those her friend. This is not how she would want to finally contact her but it will do. She just hopes they won’t meet each other in worse circumstances</i>.</p><p> </p><p><i>As she hit send her door comes blowing open, ripped off the wall. Uniformed individuals came rushing in, two held her down while the others seized her office. She didn’t struggle, there was no use. She laid pliant, face down on her desk</i>. </p><p> </p><p><i>Minutes passed, shouting all around her, barking commands left and right. She felt a needle being stabbed into her bicep and everything went back to dark and quiet</i>.</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Manhattan, New York, USA – <b>10:14 A.M. 1/2/21</b><i></i></i>
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</p><p> </p><p>Dahyun awoke this morning sweating buckets despite it being 2 degrees and thick blankets of snow covered the streets. She remembers feeling her stomach twist in knots and her head pounding but it ended before she could even take something for it. </p><p> </p><p>Bits and pieces of her dream flashed through her eyes but not enough to get a grasp of the whole thing. She tried hard to remember it, curious and all, though that uneasy feeling would return and she’d shiver in chills down to her bones. </p><p> </p><p>It was surprisingly a nice day to walk around, the sun shined bright and wind didn’t blow hard. Dahyun and Wendy decided to head out, walk around the theatre district. Gawking up at the posters of current shows and imagining how it would like to be seated inside watching all those performers, hearing those masterwork soundtracks. The vocals, the melody, the rhythm, the music dancing around coursing through your body.</p><p> </p><p>Alas, that’s all they can do right now. Imagine, picture, dream. </p><p> </p><p>Their first stop is a white classical inspired building with the words “<i>History is Happening in Manhattan</i>” written in black on gold background. Silhouettes of the main cast decorated the doors depicting scenes from the show.</p><p> </p><p><i>Hamilton</i>, an immigrant coming to New York with nothing but his mind singing of the future, the new world as they defeat the British and finally establish their own government. Fighting a revolution to fighting in the cabinet, working hard and doing everything to make his own mark, a legacy. Dying in the hands of his first friend, his enemy. </p><p> </p><p>Like him, Dahyun came thousands of miles away from home to achieve something greater. Open the doors to her new life by taking a risk and gambling her everything. She flew with a one-way ticket and emergency money for when things don’t go as planned, not sure whether she’s good enough to stay but pushed through nevertheless. </p><p> </p><p>You can say the dark-haired girl experienced a case of impostor syndrome in her earlier years in college. Something Hamilton obviously did not go through. Her new life flashed before her eyes too fast for her to keep up, almost pushing her over the edge one time. She could clearly feel history's eyes on her. If it wasn’t for Wendy, Dahyun might have seen Washington watching from the other side. </p><p> </p><p>Next is a brown four-story building with a green canopy roof lined with orange lights and gold doors leading to the lobby. The big billboard advertising the show read “<i>Come See How the World Could Be</i>.”</p><p> </p><p><i>Hadestown</i> is a musical that tells of Orpheus and Eurydice’s tragic tale through the narration of a jazzy Hermes and the fates as his accompaniment, Hades with a voice deeper than Tartarus and Persephone’s soulful singing. </p><p> </p><p>If you’re not well versed in Greek mythology the story’s about a musician and poet named Orpheus being given the chance to bring back his wife, Eurydice, from the dead with one condition from the king of the underworld himself. Our main man cannot look back at Eurydice as they walk back up, you can fill in what happens next it <i>is</i> a tragedy. </p><p> </p><p>Now, unlike him Dahyun hasn’t looked back for the past four years, even to share her delight. She didn’t need to; they probably wouldn’t care. She genuinely thinks that they didn’t know where she is. They just send money without batting an eye, it’s better than getting disowned. The pianist has long ceased to care, she’d get away from them, cut all ties when she’s stable on her own. </p><p> </p><p>“This one’s a classic!” Dahyun exclaimed as they passed the brick walled building with two long balconies on top of the black canopy roof. It has seen 13, 300 performances of the same show for the past three decades. </p><p> </p><p>“and classically we can’t afford it” Wendy retorted back pulling Dahyun along “let’s get cheesecake instead. </p><p> </p><p><i>Erik</i>, or the <i>Phantom</i> for those who’s not aware of the book the musical was based on, is a very passionate musician. He makes his own operas, something not surprising considering he lives underneath an opera house. He’s socially awkward and isn’t much of a people person unless it’s Madam Giry or Christine Daaé. His best friend is his organ and a mechanical monkey.</p><p> </p><p>Dahyun shares his love for music, his dedication, his intense connection to it. Music filled her life, she breathes, eats, and drinks music. There are times where she’d be up in the middle of the night on her keyboard, Wendy would have to make her sleep because ‘<i>Dahyun it’s three in the morning, really not the time to play Toccata in D minor</i>.’ What Dahyun doesn’t share with the estranged man though is his lack of friends, she on the other hand likes chatting people up. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get in one of those theatres one day. Just need to wait a little longer.” Said Wendy as she sat across Dahyun on a high table near the counter. </p><p> </p><p>The younger didn’t respond, choosing rather to start digging into the cheesecake they took the train for. Lately the pianist has been feeling burned out, mentally tired and unable to latch on to the joy she remembers she always feels when she’s surrounded by music; by making music. The chords sounded wrong, the weight of the keys beneath her fingers felt heavy, and the notes on the paper kept dancing. She can blame it on the lack of sleep if she didn’t get the required 7-9 hours, but she does. On a nice firm bed, soft pillows, and fluffy blanket. </p><p> </p><p>Frustration led her to breaking down before her year end recital, her mind couldn’t handle the fatigue anymore and her heart ached too much. Dahyun really needed to let the dam open cause things could have gone worse if it broke instead.</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Marina Blvd., Singapore – <b>9:29 A.M. 1/3/21</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>Finally, Tzuyu gets to have her well-deserved vacation, a good 14 days off staying on stable ground and seeing more than just white and/or purple. As much as she liked to get things started and head to Japan, sadly there weren’t any more flights the day she arrived in Singapore. </p><p> </p><p>So, she took the time to rest, catch up on comfortable sleep and maybe get to know her home base. A whole day to visit the touristy spots, eat pepper crab at hawkers, and breathe in fresh clean natural air. </p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu didn’t get to really wander around when she first got to the city, right after college she went into the airline’s rigorous training and started as a flight attendant shortly after that. Rookies didn’t really fly long hauls at first but she did exceptional in the program, is beyond exceptional with guests for a someone who’s extremely shy as well as otherwise, and undoubtedly exceptional in terms of beauty. </p><p> </p><p>So. this is the first extended vacation she’s having in her first month or so as a cabin crew member. She was planning to just waste the time in her apartment by spending copious hours on YouTube or hopefully learn how to cook, be on-standby whenever they would need people to man in last minute. Though now the cooking would have to wait and the Taiwanese can watch anytime anyway, she needs to find the others and subsequently Park Jihyo.</p><p> </p><p>A sane and logical person would take a moment to breathe, let things sink in first before jumping into action but Tzuyu’s clearly different. She saw the people whom she has a special connection to as family and God knows what lengths the girl would go to for family, blood or not. She didn’t need that much convincing from her talk with Ms. Bae since in a way something told her they’d be one of the best things to happen in her lifetime. </p><p> </p><p>But finding yourself in an entirely different place in the blink an eye needs some getting used to for sure. One of these days Tzuyu’s sure she’d get whiplashed somehow. At least this time she’s not in another country, she’s still in Singapore, a hotel in the USS area judging by the Hard Rock sign outside the window.</p><p> </p><p>Various articles of clothing and room service plates were strewn about, bottles of alcohol and ripped pages filled with angry pencil marks over unfinished drawings were scattered on the floor. </p><p> </p><p>No person was in sight but there’s a high chance that they might be in the bathroom, a fact Tzuyu concluded upon hearing the water run behind the door beside her. She stood there frozen in place not sure whether to hide or go out of the room, but there was no more time now as a girl appeared to her right. </p><p> </p><p>Her hair damp, a loose shirt almost sliding off of her shoulders, and eyes wide in surprise. Neither said a word letting silence fill the room for a few seconds until –</p><p> </p><p>“Are you lost baby girl?” Joked the shorter between the two leaning against the door frame. </p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu, stunned and unable to respond, let her hand land on the other’s left cheek… hard</p><p> </p><p>“Shit” The slap made the girl stumble a bit, her head almost hitting the wall. “Okay, understandable” She moved her jaw around, the impact closer to how a punch feels rather than a slap. </p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu’s sure she’s not the only one saying that that’s not a good first impression candidate, unless you’re wasted or high enough to laugh at a falling leaf. She’s slowly having doubts about this sensate thing, especially if the other five will be anything like this girl.</p><p> </p><p>“I deserved that but on the other hand I’m not the one in other people’s room.” The shorter girl regained her composure and stood straight to at least reach the taller’s eyes – slightly. It’s hard to be intimidating when your small but this girl looked feisty.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Oh right</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu’s eyes widened in realization immediately apologizing. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. I can explain to you how I got here but you might want to sit down for this.”</p><p> </p><p>A hesitant look ran across her face obviously suspicious of Tzuyu’s motives but followed nonetheless, making her way deeper into the room, laying down on the bed. “Okay then, explain.”</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t take long for Tzuyu to give this girl the run through, she stayed silent unlike Sana. She listened attentively, her initial expression changing the more things were said, she slowly sat up from her reclined position. Her big doe eyes locking themselves with Tzuyu’s conveying that she’s genuinely interested. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s everything I know” </p><p> </p><p>The girl didn’t peer her gaze from Tzuyu’s, quite the opposite. She stared harder like she’s looking for something. Tzuyu wasn’t sure what to do so she stayed still letting the other girl’s eyes swallow her.</p><p> </p><p>“The name’s Son Chaeyoung”</p><p> </p><p>Not what Tzuyu expected but it’s a pleasant surprise. Far better than answering the same five questions over and over. “Chou Tzuyu”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay” Chaeyoung bounced off the bed standing up “So, you’re not actually here but you’re here, same goes that I can be where you are but still be here”</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Yah this is definitely easier</i>
</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to try it?” </p><p> </p><p>A sentence that made Chaeyoung’s face light up like the Gardens at night. “Yes please!” </p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu couldn’t help but smile at how adorable the shorter girl looked, it’s one of those ‘<i>I want to squeeze her cheeks&lt;.i&gt;’ kind of cute. Tzuyu then took her hand surprising Chaeyoung a little but her protest died down in her throat as their surroundings change. </i></p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p>The rollercoasters that could be seen from the balcony got replaced by a marble kitchen counter and wooden shelves and cabinet. The flat screen tv now came with a living room set, a shelf full of cassette tapes and a cassette player recorder. The messy king-sized bed turned into a little foyer where three pairs of shoes and a suitcase are neatly placed against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you?” Chaeyoung began to walk around the pristine apartment. It didn’t seem to be lived in that much, it looks more like those showroom models. “Marina”</p><p> </p><p>Chaeyoung scoffed looking back at Tzuyu, “How old are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Tzuyu walked to her tape collection, “21. You?” and picked up the first thing she touched. “Same” Chaeyoung responded before sitting down on one end of the cream-coloured couch while Tzuyu fiddled with her radio.</p><p> </p><p>She’s not sure why but Chaeyoung made her nervous, unlike when she was with Sana where Tzuyu felt comfortable somehow. The short girl carries this powerful aura in her that makes you want to marvel in whatever she did no matter how simple it was. There’s this vibrancy surrounding her that screams <i>talent</i> and for reasons incomprehensible it’s both intimidating and awe inspiring. </p><p> </p><p>Pressing play, the apartment soon was filled with mellow yet upbeat music trapped in by the light nude-colored walls. Tzuyu’s nerves settled down a bit just by hearing Aretha Franklin say '<i>the moment I wake up</i>.'</p><p> </p><p>“You like old people music”</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t question, at least it didn’t sound like one. “Yes, do you have a problem with that?” Tzuyu crossed her arms across her chest staring down at the shorter girl. Her friends always teased her about her taste in music but she listens to the recent top 50s as well, just not all the time. She’d still prefer songs with a little more soul and less ass. </p><p> </p><p>“Nope, no problem here” Chaeyoung held her hands up in surrender “I’m an art student and I own LPs, go figure”</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you talking to?”</p><p> </p><p>Both young women turned their heads towards the door as the setting changed again. There stood two of Chaeyoung’s guy friends looking at her suspiciously. “Uhmm”</p><p> </p><p>The two walked further in to the room and threw themselves on the bed. “If it’s the ghost of Michael Jackson say ‘<i>hee hee</i>’.” Jungkook snickered earning him a whack in the head from Yugyeom. </p><p> </p><p>“You can tell them… I think” is the last thing that Tzuyu said before she disappeared leaving Chaeyoung to deal with her friends.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s not Michael Jackson” Jungkook instantly pouted “It’s a friend actually.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s the name of your ghost friend Chaengie?” It was obvious that Yugyeom’s mocking her from the pitch of his voice but his face remained stern. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s Tzuyu and she’s not a ghost. I’m a sensate.”</p><p> </p><p>Chaeyoung isn’t sure but for a split second both men’s expression faltered and their eyes shook a bit but it was gone quick. Jungkook regained his composure as if it didn’t happen, sitting up and moving closer to the girl. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”</p><p> </p><p>The whole time Chaeyoung talked she noticed the two nudge and look at each other slyly when she said certain things. They were acting really weird, all fidgety and somewhat distant at times. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow that sounds cool Chaeyoung-ah, you should probably write a book about it.”</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t really expect for them to believe her so she just rolled with it. “I probably should.” </p><p> </p><p>They talked about something else after that until Chaeyoung fell asleep hearing more than two voices whispering around her.</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Jeju-do, South Korea – <b>9:07 P.M. 1/8/21/</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s been a week since that encounter with Nayeon and since then Jeongyeon’s been having nothing but the best sleep in the longest time. The frequent nightmares she gets when she’s stressed have been cut down close to none, which is surprising since her business is still not doing as great as she’d like for it to. </p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon didn’t really think much of it, she’s been positive and optimistic about everything more than usual. Something Seulgi tease her for, she’d joke about Jeongyeon finally seeing someone every chance she gets.</p><p> </p><p>Now a normal person would peg what happened as a dream, or if you’re paranoid a VIP pass to an asylum, Jeongyeon didn’t think that it was either. She has dreamt of Nayeon hundreds of times before, she’ll be honest there, but never did it not lead to a nightmare. </p><p> </p><p>Only now did seeing her old friend make the horrible dreams vanish like when they would have sleepovers as kids. So, the young entrepreneur did her research. </p><p> </p><p>Instead of using all of her time cooking up ways to salvage her business she spent nights on her laptop going from one site to another, having multiple tabs open and keeping notes of what she deemed interesting yet logical. </p><p> </p><p>During one of her nocturnal sessions, she stumbled on a paper by a Korean scientist named Park Jihyo discussing telepathy between two people of completely different nationalities. The two subjects have never met in real life prior to the day they talked to Dr. Park. Both shared information about the other so specific that it was as if they were in the same place. </p><p> </p><p>They said that they “visit” the other and are even able to utilize their talents. Like how subject A is a math major who was able to help subject B pass their trigonometry final without needing to call and study beforehand. </p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon dug deeper and found out that the paper was published in the name of a multi-national research group that focuses their work specifically on this type of things. Their life’s work is to introduce to the public what the scientific world call “<i>homo sensoriums</i>.” </p><p> </p><p>People like us, but also not like us.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I’m one of them”</p><p> </p><p>“One of what?” Jeongyeon fell of her chair with how much she rushed to clear her work table and close her laptop. “Oh shit. Are you alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Seulgi came to her side but wasn’t much help with how hard she was laughing. “You’re kind of stupid sometimes you know.”</p><p> </p><p>Jeongyeon decided to pack it up for the night, she has an early meeting tomorrow with an investor and it’s best to not wake up later than necessary. She’s pretty happy with what she’s found tonight, albeit her mind is filled. </p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Tokyo, Japan – <b>12:37 P.M. 1/11/21</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>“I still think about that day”</p><p> </p><p>Momo is currently having lunch with Yuta after their morning dance class at the studio, taking their time to really savor the three hours in-between that and the next. Since it’s been very cold lately, they opted for a good bowl of ramen in one of the many holes-in-the-wall.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m starting to think that maybe you’ve developed a crush on this girl.” Yuta said pointedly, slowly sipping the broth. </p><p> </p><p>It earned a disgusted look from the young woman mid slurp of a particularly long noodle. “Why would I crush over a girl who trespassed into my studio?” Really, it’s just not right. It’s setting yourself up to either be a Wattpad main character or next week’s breaking news.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s no other explanation to why you’re still thinking about her after a week. It was a one-time thing and she made <i>that</i> much of a mark on your mind.”</p><p> </p><p>Come to think of it, Yuta actually has a point. Why <i>is</i> the girl still stuck in Momo’s head? It’s not like she stole anything or beaten her up, she was just there and then not the next minute. It isn’t really enough to occupy a person’s train of thoughts for an extended period of time. So, <i>why</i>?</p><p> </p><p>“She was kind of pretty I guess, a ballerina.” Momo returned to her bowl, gobbling it down fast. </p><p> </p><p>Yuta turned, completely interested. “Oh, a classicist. Do you know her name?” </p><p> </p><p>“Myoui Mina she said”</p><p> </p><p>“Say that again” The name made Yuta’s ears perk up, his attention completely lost from his food to the girl sitting beside him. “Myoui Mina”</p><p> </p><p>The other dancer pierced his eyes, “Girl are you sure there was an actual person there?” second guessing the credibility of his friend’s story. “What do you mean? I told you I even talked to her.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really? Cause as far as I know she’s in Australia.”</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>One Bonifacio High Street, Philippines – <b>7:30 P.M. 1/11/21</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>“So, you’re telling me that the spirit of your childhood first love who you’ve been hiding from for the past few years visited you at the brink of dawn? and you thought it was me?” </p><p> </p><p>Nayeon and Doyoung are having an after-work dinner in what looks more like a food court themed fancy restaurant rather than an actual food court. It’s not your average rundown, plastic chairs and bubblegum littered tables. It’s more of a steel and wood situation with a polished tiled floor, clean and rustic cement walls, and exposed air conditioning vents.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, who else would visit me that early in the morning?” The sales representative snickered, “I wouldn’t” which earned him a good smack from the financial manager. </p><p> </p><p>“It felt so real though, like she was actually there.” After disappointingly shoving the last piece of her char siew noodle plate, Nayeon continued. “We made conversation and I even hugged her. I hugged her and it felt solid. The whole nine yards, beating heart and all.” </p><p> </p><p>Doyoung didn’t seem to buy it, “This happened before as well remember? When you woke up all sweaty an- “ </p><p> </p><p>“I told you not to bring that up again!” Nayeon showered him with a new round of hits.</p><p> </p><p>The two decided to walk around the open mall after eating. Lush green grass in the middle filled with towering art pieces, food stalls, and places to sit. Kids and dogs ran around playing with each other or by each other. </p><p> </p><p>“In all honesty though Nayeon, maybe you just miss them. The universe might be telling you to pick up your phone and call… or even buy a ticket home.” Doyoung stopped Nayeon by the shoulders. “Really, you deserve it. Maybe it’s time to use those vacations you’ve been saving up.”</p><p> </p><p>Maybe that’s it, she’s never been away from home this long, maybe she’s feeling homesick. Maybe it’s Jeongyeon’s constant teasing or it’s her and Jihyo’s karaoke trips that she’s looking for. Maybe it’s the way Jeongyeon’s hand fits perfectly with hers and the mutual hatred for kissing she shares with Jihyo that could make her stomach bubble. Maybe it’s Jeongyeon making faces and Jihyo unabashedly being herself that would cause for Nayeon to tear up from laughter. </p><p> </p><p>Nayeon has accumulated at least two weeks-worth of vacation days even after she used a few to visit Boracay last year so it’s more than enough to get away from work for a bit. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea.” </p><p>“Alright good because I already booked your flight while you were silent there.”</p><p> </p><p>------</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Melbourne, Australia – <b> 12: 51 P.M. 1/13/21 </b> </i>
</p><p> </p><p>She found it. Mina finally found the Fireflies, the place that could give meaning to Ellie’s immunity. A way for hope to be restored in every surviving person, for the hope of the cure.</p><p> </p><p>Staring up at the ceiling, leaning on the back of the sofa, Mina began to wonder.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Would I survive a zombie apocalypse?</i>
</p><p> </p><p>She’s been playing this game for a month now in between training and living and she’s finally at the end. The graphics are immaculate and it’s probably the most realistic video game about a zombie apocalypse.</p><p> </p><p>It’s the only game that got her so invested that she almost gave in to the urge of skipping a day of recitals. Good thing Mina knew better than that and still has a sense of control in her or else… we do not want to know the or else.</p><p> </p><p>Mina paused the game to ponder on the thought of a virus so lethal that it spreads easy and fast. Reaching the other side of the world in less than a month and no one knows how to stop it or what it’s made off. </p><p> </p><p>The black plague was intense but it didn’t really affect the whole world. The Spanish flu on the other hand wiped out a third of the population. Both of which though kept the patients bed ridden, but a virus that makes the patient feral in a matter of seconds is hard to contain and easy to transmit. </p><p> </p><p><i>I think I can last a few months give or take</i>.</p><p> </p><p>Mina went back to her game; she’s been awake since six this morning up and ready to finish this game. Wrappers and glasses began to pile on her coffee table because she refuses to do anything until she’s done with the game. </p><p> </p><p><i>That’s not how the I expected the ending to go but at least I know there’s more</i>.</p><p> </p><p>She’s already bought the second game and no she will not play it now, tomorrow maybe. Now, Mina has to clean up her apartment and maybe do some yoga. </p><p> </p><p>Her mind went up the clouds as she mindlessly washed the dishes. She conjured up scenarios that she could possibly find herself in an apocalypse. Which of the extensive number of talents can she use? Can she kill a zombie in the event that she really needs to? </p><p> </p><p>The thinking made her hurt, Mina might have over done it. After drying the glasses, she decided to sit back down on her couch and light one up. </p><p> </p><p>Mina let her head fall back as the smoke travelled down her windpipe filling her lungs. She could instantly feel the throbbing in her head subside to a dull ache. </p><p> </p><p>“You do know that that’s bad for you, right?”</p><p> </p><p>An elaborate looking flower tattoo and chopped blonde hair filled the ballerina’s vision before she looked up to see two big dark brown irises making her cower, to submit. Mina suddenly felt the urge to put out her cigarette.</p>
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